Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! Volume 8

by Funa

  Of course, a counterassault would eventually be mounted so that the invaders did not try to worm their way in while the rest of the country sat on their hands, but the lords would take their sweet time about it, and the households farthest away would be inclined not to send any support at all until the very last moment, when it would absolutely unconscionable for them to do otherwise, at which point they would send as few men as they possibly could.

  If they were far away, the best they could probably expect was a monetary reward afterward. It was not as though they had the chance to expand their territory, or even better, win promotion to a higher noble rank. Therefore, they would be slow to respond to the royal decree, finding all sorts of excuses not to comply—or rather, they should have been, but in this case, for some reason even the highest-ranking nobles had rushed at lightning speed to dispatch their standing armies in the name of the king’s endeavor. Once this fact was known, even the smaller houses, who had dawdled as always, swiftly followed suit. They didn’t know the reason behind it, but they did know that if they failed to comply it would look quite bad for them. Anyone who did not have the sense to intuit at least that much was not fit to serve as a noble.

  Adalbert, of course, was fully aware of the circumstances. As much as the Goddess had cautioned them against spreading any word of her sighting, in an open place like that, with so many witnesses present, someone was bound to talk sooner or later. There were those who were out for the money, and those who were very faithful to those who they served, and those who thought that the wrath of a benevolent-seeming goddess was probably no big deal…

  Of course, the fact that Adalbert knew exactly what was going on was just one more reason why he had been given the command of the king’s army. Because he had been far away, he had neither gotten a clear view of Mile’s ‘Goddess’ display, nor heard the message that she had broadcast with her magic. However, upon hearing the word ‘Goddess,’ the prince immediately lit up.

  A goddess…and a daughter of the house of Ascham! We’ve found her! The living avatar and holder of the Goddess’s favor, the holy maiden Adele!!!

  Apparently, the commander of the Ascham troops was convinced that Adele was dead, but Adalbert, of course, knew better. A girl with a goddess residing within her could never die so easily.

  And now, our country will have the protection of the goddess who speaks through Lady Adele as well…

  “Lady Mabel surely possessed sufficient purity to have become a deity, but to think that she would still be thinking of us…”

  “What? But the daughter of Ascham is named Adele, isn’t she?”

  “Hm? That’s the name of the young heiress who went missing, Lady Mabel’s daughter. The one who became a goddess and granted us her protection was her late mother, Lady Mabel.”

  “Huh…? O-oh, I see, it was Lady Mabel, the goddess, speaking through Adele’s body then. That makes sense…”

  That assumption was at least one that Adalbert understood. However…

  “No, the form she assumed was Lady Mabel herself.”

  “What? Then where is her daughter, Adele?”

  “Well, a year and a half ago, Lady Adele vanished from her academy in the royal capital, and we haven’t heard from her since.”

  “Wh…?”

  Later on, an investigation was held, and the former staff of the Ascham manor, who had worked there for many years leading up to the events of four and half years before, gave testimony. “That was our Lady Mabel, no doubt about it. She appeared to us just as she looked when she was a girl, in her most precious days. Besides, the way she was conducting herself was outside of all common sense. That could not have been anyone but our dear lady!”

  Indeed, until she was eight years old, Adele had little contact with anyone beyond her immediate family, her wet nurse, and her nanny. After her mother and grandfather passed away, even those two were taken away from her, replaced with new staff who were introduced to “the sole daughter of the house of Ascham”—the usurper’s daughter, Prissy. Hardly any of them had any direct contact with Adele at all.

  After that, as Prissy was introduced again and again as the Ascham heiress to outsiders, memories of Adele began to fade from everyone’s consciousness. Even those who were fully aware that Prissy was not the rightful heir could not be expected to remember the face of a young girl who they had only glimpsed now and then from afar so many years ago. Plus, the wet nurse had already left the capital, and the nanny was now employed minding some other family’s daughter. As a result, neither had been included in the investigation.

  However, with Mabel, it was different.

  Mabel, who had possessed such many and varied nicknames as “the garden that blooms all year round,” and “the girl whose very eyes can make you happy.” “Mabel the Tomboy,” “the girl who thinks of crazy things,” “Mabel the Dandelion,” and so on and so forth, had made quite the strong impression on most citizens of the fief, particularly with the way she conducted herself during what were known as “Lady Mabel’s Wandering Years,” when she was about twelve or thirteen.

  It had not been readily apparent until she was around eight years old, but in the years since, Mile had come to resemble her mother to a striking degree. This of course included that splendid silver hair of hers, which appeared amongst the women of the Ascham bloodline, every now and then.

  Furthermore, thanks to her father and stepmother, who had them burned, not a single portrait of Adele remained. What instead hung upon the walls of the manor were innumerable portraits of her stepsister, Prissy, hastily drawn up by an amateur painter.

  In other words, when the people of Ascham looked upon Mile—or rather, Adele, as she was now—the only personage that came to mind was the late daughter of the house of Ascham, Lady Mabel von Ascham.

  The fact that she had grown up since then, that she had gotten married? None of that mattered. No matter what age she was, in the hearts of her people, Mabel was, “our dear young Lady Mabel.”

  And now, she was Lady Mabel, the goddess.

  Even including those who had seen her right up close, there was not a single person who doubted that the goddess who had manifested in order to protect Ascham was Lady Mabel herself.

  Meanwhile, Adalbert, who thought he would be able to confirm the whereabouts of the avatar of the goddess, Adele von Ascham, was in distress.

  Wait, so it wasn’t Adele who appeared here? Or is it that her mother Mabel was the goddess residing in her? Or did her mother become a goddess and then ask a different goddess to protect her daughter? I don’t get it! What should I do…?

  ***

  “By the way, Mavis, did you say that you saw the crest of the royal family among all the flags of the Brandel army stationed in the capital?” asked Mile.

  “Yeah! For someone training to be a knight, it’s crucial to be able to distinguish the flags of the different royal families, even if they’re from other countries. It’s pretty unlikely that his Majesty himself would be out here heading up his army, but it’d probably be one of his sons, or someone along those lines, in charge of his forces—and as such, serving as the commander of the whole of the national army,” Mavis confidently replied.

  “Wh-why would they do all that?”

  “I don’t know. As far as both Pauline and I are concerned, such a thing should be unthinkable… Still, there’s no doubting it. That was most certainly the crest of the royal family. I, Mavis, would stake my own name upon it!”

  “Wh…?”

  Mile was nearly speechless.

  It was not that she could not believe what Mavis had said, however—an entirely different matter was now swirling around in Mile’s brain.

  C-crest of the Royal Family… M-Mavis-sama…

  ***

  The imperial troops were booking it with all they had. They set such a desperate pace that even calling it a forced march would be an understatement. That said, they were not expecting to have to fight when they reached their destination, and if
any troops caught up with them, they would die. In circumstances like this, they had no choice but to muster up the last dregs of their energy.

  As they already had no intention of fighting, all that mattered right now was getting back home. The imperial soldiers, who had been granted permission by their commanding officers to ditch anything that was unnecessary—and who had already had many of their consumable goods stolen to begin with—were now quite agile, so much so that outrunning an army that was fully laden with equipment and supplies might not be a total impossibility…if the soldiers had been in top form, that was.

  Already they had been traveling for days, subsisting on the few morsels of food that they had been carrying when the supply depots were ransacked, along with the scant amount of water that the mages had been able to produce, and whatever animals and vegetables they had managed to gather along the road. However, most of the soldiers had not had much luck with hunting and gathering, and the water that they had all drawn into their own canteens back at the river had long since dried up. Furthermore, their hasty retreat left them no time to double back to a water source. If they did that, the pursuing Brandel forces were certain to catch up with them and their capture would be assured.

  So the soldiers plodded forward, their feet moving almost automatically, as they suffered both thirst and starvation. At the very least, if they could leave Ascham and make it into Cesdol, which lay along the border with the Empire, there would be villages where they could find food and wells. All they had to do was meet back up with the troops they had sent ahead to maintain control of Cesdol, who could split their remaining supplies with them.

  With these thoughts in their dazed, half-conscious minds, the vanguard troops plodded on, but when they lifted their downcast faces and set their gazes ahead, they saw before them…

  …A tent. And in front of the tent, a long table. Behind the table were three girls seated on stools. Behind them, between the girls and the tent, were barrels and crates.

  Upon the tent, the entry flap of which was closed, hung a wooden sign:

  Traveling Restaurant – House of the Holy Maiden.

  From all the men, there rang out a chorus of disbelief.

  “Do you have any water?” asked one soldier, standing before the long table, his voice shaking.

  One of the girls, who was quite developed but of questionable age, replied with a grin. “Yes, water will be five silver a cup. Ale is one half-gold, and wine is two.”

  “That’s expensive!!!” the men shouted.

  As you may recall, five silver pieces was equivalent to roughly 5,000 yen in modern Japanese money. One half-gold piece was an extravagant 10,000 yen.

  “That’s way too expensive!” a soldier screamed, but the girl simply replied, “Supply and demand. That’s one of the most basic tenets of commerce. If you don’t like the price, you don’t have to buy it. It’s as simple as that. The only patrons we’re interested in serving are those who agree that the price is right. Plus, consider how difficult it must be for a group of young ladies to carry this water all the way to a battlefield to sell it, would you? Do you really think that we could sell this water, which took us days to transport, for the same price that you would find in a city marketplace—all the while keeping in mind the risk of being embroiled in battle or attacked by soldiers?”

  “Uh…”

  The man could not muster a rebuttal.

  “B-but still…”

  “Gimme water!” another voice cried, cutting off the first man, who was haltingly trying to haggle for a bargain.

  “You can pinch yer pennies all you want and die with those coins janglin’ around in yer purse, but I’ll gladly buy this water that these girls risked their lives to lug all the way here for our sakes! If five silver’s all it takes to keep livin’ then that’s cheap as dirt, far as I see it!”

  With that, the man slammed five silver pieces down upon the table.

  “Of course! Coming right up!”

  The girl went straight back to the barrels and drew a cup of water, which she handed to the man.

  “Water! Glorious water…”

  The soldier glugged the water down in a gallant fashion, not leaving a single drop behind in the cup. After drinking so joyously, he appeared reluctant to step away, muttering, “Wish I could have another cup, but it wouldn’t be right for me to drink up all the water myself. There’s limits, after all. I better let someone else get in here…”

  Five more silver pieces were then smacked loudly down upon the table.

  “Water!”

  “M-me too!”

  “A-ale for me!”

  “Move, ya bastards! If ya ain’t buyin’, get outta the way!”

  One after the other the men came rushing in, shoving aside the soldier who had complained about the prices.

  “Of course, of course, don’t you worry. I wasn’t the only one carrying this water here, so we have more in stock. No rushing, no pushing! Just line up nicely, please. After all, if you push too much, the table’s going to fall over, and all the water will spill!”

  Truthfully, ale has diuretic properties, and so really, all it can do is cause further dehydration. However, the girls had no idea that this was the case and had included it in the options out of ignorance, not malice.

  As the three girls busied themselves selling water, one of the soldiers looked up with a look of sudden realization. “Traveling Restaurant, House of the Holy Maiden…” The man then turned to Pauline and asked, “S-say, if this is a ‘restaurant,’ that mean y’all are sellin’ food, too?”

  Upon hearing this question, the others around him stopped moving and fell silent. As a deafening quiet swept over the area, Pauline grinned and replied, “Well, naturally.”

  The silence seemed to crackle with excitement.

  “Wh-whatcha got?” one soldier asked in a trembling voice.

  “Um, rice porridge and hard tack, jerky, vegetable soup, and a few other things. One half-gold for everything.”

  “That’s expensive!!!”

  Both the food and drink flew off the figurative shelves. The men who had been walking behind the first group pitched forward as the men behind them stopped, and a non-commissioned officer, veins popping in his forehead, shoved past them to investigate. When he saw what was going on, however, he immediately took charge.

  “Well, don’t just stand there! Hurry up and buy your food, and then keep on walking! The guys behind you have gotta eat, too! Plus, the royal army’s still hot on our tails. As soon as you can move, get going!”

  With the officer’s direction, the operation began to run much more smoothly.

  Those who requested it could have their canteens filled, instead of drinking the water right there—that was easy enough to achieve with a funnel. Those who received porridge and soup were directed to make a big lap around the area of the tent while they ate, return the bowls, and proceed on, a gambit designed so as not to crowd up the table where the girls were selling. That was an NCO for you, always thinking on his feet. Naturally, those who carried their own cups had those filled up instead and then kept on walking.

  “We can’t thank you enough. Thanks to your help, most of these men will make it back home alive. You brave, brave girls have our eternal gratitude,” said the officer. “It seems like you’ll be out of stock pretty soon, so I suggest that you run away as fast as you can before the royal army finds you.”

  Pauline glanced behind her. Sure enough, most of the barrels and crates were nearly empty.

  “Oh. You two, if you would?”

  “On it!”

  On cue, Reina and Mavis rushed into the tent and carried out more barrels and crates.

  “Wh…?”

  They traveled back and forth from the tent countless times, each time going away with an empty container and coming back with a full one.

  “Don’t worry, we still have plenty more food and water,” said Pauline. “Wherever there are those suffering from hunger and thirst—whether it�
�s on the battlefield or in the depths of Hell—all you have to do is call on us, and we’ll be there in a flash! Because, we are…”

  Reina and Mavis rushed to Pauline’s sides, and the three of them struck a snappy pose, reciting as one, “The Traveling Restaurant: House of the Holy Maiden!!!”

  There were no explosions or colored smoke bombs this time.

  The flap of the tent, meanwhile, opened just an inch, and Mile peeked out from within, grinding her teeth. Thanks to the number of people to whom she had already revealed herself, she was relegated to the tent, assigned with retrieving enough goods from her inventory to fill the barrels and crates. Even if she were to wear a mask, it would still be too dangerous to let anyone see her face at this point. Still, she watched the other three with envy.

  “S-sure…”

  Meanwhile, the officer stood frozen and slack-jawed before the girls.

  ***

  “Those girls really were awfully brave,” the officer muttered as he walked alongside his subordinates.

  Those wonderful girls, who provided our escaping soldiers with food and water yesterday at their traveling restaurant… Their prices were a bit steep, but considering how they risked their lives to carry those items all the way there, I can’t complain. It’s just like they said, really: it’s supply and demand. No one would ever complain about the difference in price between buying something in the kingdom’s capital versus buying the same thing out in a remote village, after all. This is the same principle.

  They carried that food and water all the way there, just for us, while the royal army was pursuing us, risking their lives. Honestly, it’s just like their shop name suggests—they may as well be holy maidens.

  Are they girls of our nation who followed after our army? Or are they the daughters of former Albarnians who married into families here? Either way, they are allies of our soldiers, and treasured friends.